The morning air was crisp, filled with the scent of pine, leather, and gun oil.
Clair stood in the open field behind the mansion, dressed in black leggings, a tank top, and a steel determination that no bullet could pierce.
Across from her stood Marco, Austin's right-hand man, ex-special forces, and apparently now her personal combat instructor.
He smirked at her. "You sure about this?"
Clair tied her curls into a bun. "Teach me to protect myself. Or get out of my way."
Marco let out a short laugh. "I like her, boss."
Austin stood a few feet away, arms crossed, sunglasses hiding his eyes. He'd said nothing since they came outside. Just watched her, like he was waiting for her to crack.
Clair didn't plan to.
Marco tossed her a pair of fingerless gloves. "Let's start with basics."
The first hour was brutal. Jab. Duck. Kick. Fall. Over and over again.
By noon, she was covered in dirt, sweat slicking her neck, lips dry, body aching.
But she never complained.
Marco handed her a water bottle and said, "Most people cry the first day."
She looked him dead in the eye. "I'm not most people."
Austin's lip twitched. "She learns fast."
Clair glared at him. "You sound surprised."
"I'm not. I've seen what you're capable of."
She tilted her head. "Like what? Surviving an ambush? Or surviving you?"
The tension between them was thick again, like a wire pulled tight between fire and ice.
Austin stepped closer. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then stop hiding things from me."
Marco cleared his throat, backing away slowly. "I'll be over there…"
Clair faced Austin fully. "If I'm really your wife, if this marriage is more than some twisted power play, then stop treating me like glass."
"You're not glass," he said softly. "You're a storm. And I've never known how to brace for one."
Their eyes locked.
For a second, the whole world fell away, the guards, the field, the threat of death lingering in shadows.
Then Austin turned his back. "Training continues tomorrow."
Clair stood alone, breath shallow, and realized she wasn't afraid of him anymore.
She was afraid of what he made her feel.
That night, Austin sat alone in his office, watching a live feed of the perimeter.
The image of Clair in crosshairs replayed in his mind on loop. He'd seen enemies try to get to him through his men, his money, his power.
But Clair was different.
She was the first innocent.
The first to ever look at him like a man, not a monster.
His phone buzzed. Unknown number. One line of text appeared:
"Trade the girl or lose your empire."
Austin's jaw flexed.
He responded:
"Come take her, if you're man enough."
Back in her room, Clair sat in a hot bath, muscles sore but her mind sharper than ever.
She wasn't just learning how to fight.
She was learning how to think like them.
To survive in a world that didn't believe she belonged.
She slipped out of the bath, wrapped herself in a towel, and walked into the bedroom, only to find Austin standing by her window, staring out at the moonlit gardens.
She froze. "You really have to stop lurking in corners like a vampire."
He turned slowly. "Security alert. Just checking the windows."
Clair arched a brow. "Should I be worried?"
"Not tonight."
"You said that last time."
He looked at her, at the water still glistening on her shoulders, the curve of her neck, the fire in her eyes even when she was exhausted.
"You shouldn't have to live like this," he said quietly.
"Then fix it."
"I'm trying."
She walked past him, grabbed her robe, and sat on the edge of the bed.
"Did you get another threat?"
He hesitated.
"That's a yes," she muttered. "What did it say?"
Austin leaned against the wall. "They want me to hand you over."
Clair's blood ran cold. "And?"
"I told them they'd have to die trying."
She swallowed. "And if they do?"
"Then I'll kill every last one of them."
His voice was low, deadly, and full of promise.
But Clair didn't flinch.
Instead, she looked him straight in the eye and said, "You better teach me how to shoot tomorrow."
Austin blinked.
"I want to know how to pull a trigger if I have to," she added. "And not just for me."
He stepped closer. "You planning on protecting me now?"
"I'm planning to protect what's mine. Whether you like it or not."
Austin's hand brushed hers. "You're dangerous when you talk like that."
She smirked. "You say that like it's a bad thing."
The next day, Clair stood at the shooting range, ear protection in place, Glock in her hands.
Marco adjusted her stance. "You're shaky."
Clair adjusted her grip. "I'm ready."
"Breathe in. Exhale. Fire."
She squeezed the trigger.
The recoil jerked her arm, but the bullet struck the target dead center.
Marco blinked. "Well, damn."
Clair smiled. "I'm a fast learner, remember?"
Austin stood behind the glass wall, watching with a complicated mix of pride and fear. She wasn't just surviving anymore.
She was becoming one of them.
And that terrified him more than anything else.